Of Love
by Tamashi.no.Koe
Summary: Ch.2: Watching: Something rose up from his stomach, strong and commanding, making him tremble. He wrapped an arm around her back lightly, pressing his chest against her curled fingers. Fuji Syusuke x OC
1. Thinking

**THINKING **

In his spare time, Fuji liked to go on long walks. In the beginning, he went to the park. As these walks got more frequent, circling around the same basketball, football and tennis courts just lost its appeal, so he took to the streets instead.

He knew the neighborhood so well by now, that he could roam, directionless, and never get lost. That was the biggest advantage of being on autopilot. His mind could turn to more constructive tasks, such as thinking.

Fuji Syusuke loved to think. Or, at least, his mind did. The tensai himself was too busy thinking to think about whether he liked to think or not. That was the main reason why he went on these walks; they gave him--his mind--time to just run into overdrive.

Sometimes, his mind just went blank, filled in only by some random song that popped into his head. There it would repeat, and Fuji would walk, without a worry in the world.

At other times, his mind was so full that there wasn't enough room to move the different thoughts around. He thought, for instance, about the time he had broken his leg, and then wonder what would have happened if he broke his arm, precisely because his arm hadn't been broken.

Would he have learned to use his left hand, like Tezuka and Echizen could? Would he be able to do that? In his own private heart, Fuji didn't have to be so modest, and could openly admit that he was a genius. He thought that if using his left hand to play tennis could be categorized as a skill, then his chances of mastering it were considerable. On the other hand, if it wasn't a skill, then he probably wouldn't be able to do it at all. Or would he? Would he not?

If he'd broken his arm, would he have met Tezumi? No, he wouldn't, would he? He'd crossed paths with her because there had been a problem with his wheelchair. If he'd broken an arm instead of a leg, he'd never have met the girl who was his girlfriend today.

And so on went his train of thought. It just went on and on, until he couldn't remember why he had started thinking in the first place. Once he realized this, he would think about thinking. Why did he think so much? Why didn't he talk or write or do anything else? Was it because he knew that if he wrote down all his thoughts, the world would run out of its paper supply within weeks? Or was it because, if he told anyone about everything that went on in his head, they would just leave and never come back?

Was all he thought really that boring or baffling? No, surely it wasn't. Tezumi liked to hear him talk, sometimes. She'd let him just speak and say anything that came into his head. Obviously she knew that by attempting to drain his overworked brain of excess pondering, she was simply creating room for more. But still, she'd let him…

Why did she let him? Most other people, mainly Yuuta, backed away and made up some excuse to leave the room, when any of his mental rambling leaked out through his speech. Sometimes Tezumi did the same thing, too.

Like now, if he asked her why she put up with his babbling, she would go red, look away and mumble something incoherent.

"Ne, Tezumi, why do you always blush?" Fuji found the question quite valid; he really wanted to know why.

"I don't," she protested.

"Yes, you do. You're blushing right now," he pointed out pleasantly.

She glared at him. "If you really want to know," she said forcefully, "It's because it's always too hot, with your arm always around me like this."

Hint, hint.

Fuji obligingly retracted his arm from around her shoulders. This was something new to think about: why Tezumi disliked the gesture so. Most girls he knew would have been thrilled to have a boy put his arm around her. Tezumi, on the other hand, seemed set on keeping him a full three feet away from her, most of the time.

"Ne, Tezumi, why three feet?"

"Eh?" Looking up from the computer in front of her--they were doing a project together which involved a PowerPoint--she eyed him strangely.

Fuji decided to be undeterred. It was a very valid question, after all. "Why do I have to stay three whole feet away from you all the time?"

Her face contorted momentarily in such a complex mix of emotions that he doubted she herself could make them all out. Confusion, he saw, and embarrassment, and a slight roll of her eyes--her trademark gesture.

Slowly, her features smoothed out into a small--but growing--mischievous smile. "Because," she stated solemnly, pulling out a thick book from the pile on the chair beside her, "It's the best distance for me to conveniently--"

"Itai!" Fuji whined beseechingly, looking as hurt as anyone could when being whacked--ok, _tapped_, but _still_, it was the _intention_ that counted--on the head by his girlfriend. Pointedly rubbing the spot, he looked at her in mock reproach.

She shrugged, a smirk twitching her lips. "Well, you asked for an explanation." Without further ado, she turned back to her work.

Giving his head a few last rubs, but failing to squeeze any sympathy or attention from her, Fuji returned to the page of data before him as well.

Why was it that she always answered his questions like this? Either by _not_ answering, or with a physical assault? He would have to go for a walk that evening, after dinner, to think about this.

As you can see, Fuji accumulated such a long list of things to think about by the end of the day, that when he finally set out for his walk to sort them all out, he almost had to decide to categorize his things to think about, so that he could deal with them more efficiently and hopefully get home before midnight.

He _almost_ had to decide, because he usually started right off thinking before he could.

This night, Fuji reflected, between _"Why is the sky blue?"_ and _"Why did Tezumi run out of the cafeteria when she ate that wasabi sushi I offered her while she was concentrating on her Math homework?"_ that he would be lucky if he didn't have to stay out here all _week_ just coping with the unanswered questions of_ one day_.

"Saa…why do I have to answer them all? Why can't I just let them alone to go away by themselves…?"

"Because even tensais have limited mental capacities?"

Fuji looked behind him to see Tezumi, hands in her pockets to protect them against the chilly night air, walking leisurely up to him.

With a big smile of joy, Fuji waited for her to catch up. So she liked to go on walks too. Why did she? Was it because she thought a lot too? She didn't seem the type. If she did, she hid it extremely well, or at least didn't have the habit of voicing her thoughts out loud.

"Tezumi, why do you think so much?" he asked, once she had fallen into step beside him.

She arched a brow, clearly preparing to say, "I do?" But a second later, her expression evened out again, and she simply replied, "Because you do."

Fuji considered this. "Then why do I think so much?"

Well, obviously he didn't expect her to really come up with an answer for that. But since she responded to his randomness with relative sanity…

Tezumi seemed to actually be working this one out seriously. Her eyes, directed at the sky above, looked in each and every direction, her smile changing as she contemplated each possibility. "Because…" The smile grew sly. "Because I give you a lot to think about."

Fuji hadn't expected this, and was so off balance that he forgot to react.

Suddenly laughing, Tezumi covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound and ran a few steps ahead, refusing to look at him when he caught up. "Joke, Fuji," she chuckled. "I know you think about a lot more than that."

But Fuji seriously thought--after a while of thinking--that she had a point there. No matter what he started out with, his mind seemed to wander back--albeit in tedious circles--to her. Everything seemed to be able to relate to the girl, including highlighter pens, reflections in windows, the way the street looked dark from inside the house but was actually bright once he had stepped onto it, and…

Well, he _did _say anything would do.

And anything meant_anything_.

As in, _anything_.

"Ne, Tezumi, what's 'anything'?"

She stared. "Uh…'anything' as in…'everything'?" she tried tentatively. "Come on, Fuji, am I really supposed to know that? This is getting a bit too far. Stop thinking so much, will you?"

Fuji chuckled. "You give me a lot to think about," he countered playfully.

Tezumi huffed, grudgingly admitting defeat. Then, a mischievous smile spread over her face. "So, if I'm able to make you think, then I'd logically be able to make you stop?"

"I wouldn't say so," Fuji replied cheerfully. "I start to think whenever I look at you."

A quirky tug of her lips. "Then close your eyes."

And suddenly, Fuji wasn't thinking anymore.

He wasn't thinking about how rare it was for Tezumi to actually initiate kisses. He wasn't thinking--plotting, more like--that if this was her way of shutting him up, then he would be careful to annoy her more in the future.

He wasn't even thinking about the fact that he wasn't thinking.

For once, he was feeling, not thinking.

And feeling was a good replacement for thinking.

A _very_ good one.

Finally, they drew apart. Tezumi looked at him. "That should knock your brain out for a while."

She blew his mind away, and knew it.

But then, Fuji decided as they continued on along the sidewalk--it was one of those rare times when his thoughts were at a blank--maybe some things, like _her_, didn't require thinking about.

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**Author's Notes: Well, this is technically a series of post Broken Smile one shots. Not to say that you have to know who Tezumi is to understand it, but it might be a plus. **


	2. Watching

**EVERYDAY'S TIME**

* * *

_Chapter Two - **Watching**_

* * *

Fuji Syusuke loved to watch.

Perhaps it was the influence of photography that made it so, or perhaps it was because visual images appealed to him so much that he took pictures. He only knew that if he found something intriguing, he liked to sit down and observe it for a while, first and foremost.

"What are you staring at?"

Fuji smiled at his girlfriend, pacifying. They had been dating for quite a while now, but Tezumi Sachie still hadn't got over her wariness of him. Especially when he openly gawked at her like the way he was doing now. "Don't mind me. I'm just watching you."

The girl, who was kneeling on a desk with a rag in one hand wiping a window pane, rolled her eyes. "If you find cleaning so interesting, you can help me do it." She held out the rag.

Chuckling gently, Fuji reached out to take it. He didn't mind the extra work, despite having just finished tennis practice. It was the turn of Tezumi and another classmate to tidy up their classroom after school, and the task had lasted even after the tennis club had been dismissed. He was looking forwards to having her to himself soon.

"Just kidding." Before he could touch it, Tezumi retracted the cloth. "It'll be your turn to do this soon enough, and it's not like I'll be hanging around to help then."

Fuji only smiled wider. He would have believed her, had it not been for the fact that the girl had stayed behind after _her_ tennis practice and worked alongside him the last three times he'd been assigned to the job. Leaving the wall he was leaning on, he took a broom and began to sweep out the corners of the room.

"You heard her, you don't have to stay," Ishizaki Ryo joked lightly from where he was mopping down the blackboard. Everyone knew he used to have a crush on Tezumi, but had given her up—albeit unwillingly, some said—after she'd agreed to date Fuji.

"I'm making sure she doesn't cheat on me," Fuji explained as though that were obvious. Not that he really didn't trust Tezumi alone with the other boy, but it had nonetheless bothered him secretly that these two were always paired together for these afternoon cleaning sessions.

He supposed the teacher thought that if he, Fuji, and Tezumi were teamed up, they'd never get any work done.

Perhaps the teacher was right.

For now, Fuji contented himself with gazing steadily at her while he swept and she wiped, admiring her lithe limbs, toned by tennis, moving diligently, and the way the sun made her black hair glow golden and her green eyes glitter almost ethereally.

He congratulated himself for securing such a beautiful girlfriend.

Sometimes he wondered why no one else had got her first. Surely such an exotic girl couldn't walk around for too long without receiving a few offers? After extensive interviews with samples of the male population and getting lots of weird looks, he had eventually come to the conclusion that the rest of the world didn't find her as attractive as he did. He'd even heard some absurd comments on how she was 'too plain' to be dating him.

Seigaku was full of blind idiots.

"Well, I think I'm done." Tezumi hopped off the desk. "Ishizaki?"

"Yep," the boy confirmed, giving the blackboard a last flick.

Gathering up the remaining dust he'd collected, Fuji herded it into a pan, dumping it inside a garbage bin near the door. Tying up the black plastic bag full of the day's refuse, he took the trash in one hand and his belongings in the other. "Maa, let's call it a day, then."

They locked and left the classroom.

"I hope you're hungry," Tezumi said to her boyfriend as they headed for her home. "My parents are going to stuff you with food."

Fuji nodded in anticipation. He enjoyed dinner at Tezumi's immensely—besides being able to spend time with her, he adored her father's cooking. He was invited to her residence often, and knew her family well. 'The in-laws', as they called themselves—to Tezumi's frequent and violent objections—liked him for his friendly and polite manner.

It was nearing twilight when they reached her house. Tezumi let them in.

"Sachie?" A feminine voice called out. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," the girl said loudly in reply. "With Fuji."

A middle aged woman came into view. She had her daughter's emerald eyes. "How are you doing, Syusuke-kun?"

Fuji regretted wistfully that Tezumi's mother called him by his first name while his girlfriend still refused. 'I'm well, Tezumi-san. I hope you are in good health?"

The woman beamed. "Fit as a fiddle, thank you. Sachie? Entertain Syusuke-kun for a while. I'll be getting dinner ready."

"Sorry for the trouble," Fuji said sincerely before following a grumbling girl upstairs.

"My mother's more in love with you than I am," Tezumi declared as she breezed into her room, setting down her bag and gesturing for him to do so as well.

He pounced on her words. "Ah, so you finally admit you love me, Chie-chan!"

Realizing her mistake, Tezumi reddened. 'Do_ not_ call me that." She shuddered.

Fuji laughed delightedly. "Your mother said to entertain me. You're doing very well."

This exasperated her no end. 'Oh jeez," she grinned wryly. "There goes my plan to annoy you into leaving." She plopped down on her bed, sifting through a pile of novels stacked haphazardly on it. "Go play with my cacti collection if you're bored. There's a book I want to finish."

After a bit of cajoling and cuddling on his part—"No, I do _not _want to play with you," Tezumi said, terribly embarrassed—Fuji allowed himself to be pushed away. He turned to the small plants in tiny pots on Tezumi's windowsill. They were a collection of cacti she kept solely for the purpose of occupying his attention when he came over and she wanted time alone. As all things under her charge, they were well provided for, but Fuji could see they lacked the care of a truly passionate gardener.

He tended to the prickly little things carefully. In order to please him, in order to make him happier dating her, she had taken up this particular hobby of his. He treasured these cacti above his own, for this was how he knew she loved him.

"They're growing very nicely, aren't they?" he commented after a while.

He got no reply. Turning around he saw Tezumi curled up on her bed, propped up against a pillow. Her book had fallen out of her grasp and dented the fluffy blanket she was on.

Fuji smiled in pure adoration. Sitting down on the carpeted floor next to the bed—she had fallen asleep on her side, and now faced him—he gazed at her, taking in minute details of the strands of black falling over her face, a limp arm dangling across the pillow. He rarely ever saw this stillness, this peacefulness in the girl whose days _he_ had filled. He felt a strong desire to take a picture of her, in her state of calm. But he hadn't a camera.

Getting up silently, he crossed the room and brought back a notebook. Settling down again, he began to draw.

At that moment, the door opened and a man with raven-colored hair stuck his head inside. He seemed taken aback to see his daughter sleeping and Fuji in front of her with pen and paper. 'I thought I needed to check on you two, since it got so quiet."

Fuji nodded, showing he understood the man's concerns.

"I'm rather surprised at you, young man. My daughter…she's still a bit naïve at times. But you haven't tried to take advantage."

"Of course not," Fuji smiled reassuringly. "If I tried anything now, she'd throw me out the window the instant she woke up."

Tezumi's father shook his head as he left, though Fuji could faintly ear him say fondly with pride, "That's my girl."

Fuji returned to his drawing. He had never been taught how to do it properly. Somehow he couldn't get the exact shape of Tezumi's fetal position right. He stared at her, his pencil motionless. He stared at the locks of black curling softly and tried to put down every individual piece, hair by hair. He moved on to her face, her closed eyes, her parted lips. The sketch grew from her head and moved down her body, faster and faster, her features appearing one by one.

Finally, the sun set completely and Fuji couldn't see the paper anymore, but didn't want to turn on any lights so as not to disturb her. Putting down his notebook and pencil, he moved closer to the bed until one of her hands was inches away from him. He noticed the book next to it, sinking into the smooth covers.

It taunted him, for some reason.

He touched the bed sheets with his fingertips, marveling at how the material yielded under the pressure.

He looked at Tezumi.

He didn't want to be thrown out of the window.

But she was sleeping so soundly, he doubted she would notice.

Removing the book, he lifted her hand and moved it aside to make space. Slowly, he lowered himself onto the bed beside her, stretching out and wriggling closer until he could feel her breathing on his skin. He could see every eyelash clearly now, even in the gloom.

Suddenly she shifted and he almost jumped, but she didn't wake, merely snuggled up to him and took fistfuls of his shirt in her hands, her bangs tickling his neck.

Something rose up from his stomach, strong and commanding, making him tremble. He wrapped an arm around her back lightly, pressing his chest against her curled fingers.

* * *

Tezumi was happy. She was drowsing comfortably against something radiating heat and moving slightly, up and down, resembling the rhythm of her own breathing…

Her mind, though not yet fully awake, ground in to action.

Heat? Her pillow didn't give off heat.

Where was she?

Home, in her room, wasn't it?

What had she just been doing?

She remembered reading, and then feeling very tired. She'd dozed off watching someone at her desk with a small watering can—

Her eyes flew open.

* * *

Abruptly, she awoke. In a flash, she had rolled over out of his reach, and was sitting up, glaring at him. '_What_, exactly, are you doing?"

Thankful that he was still there talking to her and not flying through the air into the front yard, Fuji tried to placate his girlfriend. "I was watching you."

Her eyes narrowed on his lame excuse. "Wouldn't you have had a better view from over there?" She pointed out the door.

Fuji agreed with her readily. "But you looked rather cold…"

"It's summer and I'm sweaty."

"Well…" Fuji attempted to look innocent, as though there was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why she had found him in bed with her. "You looked like you wanted a hug…?"

For a moment, Tezumi simply stared at him haughtily. "Idiot."

She swung her legs off the bed. "Come on, it's time to eat."

Fuji stayed where he was. When the cat's let out of the bag, a tensai goes all the way. "I haven't had enough of you yet," he said daringly.

She sniffed. "What do you want now?"

Pulling her to him, he licked his lips impishly. "You."

He thought this would shake her, unnerve her, most likely. He thought she would blush and look away, submitting quietly to his lips which were inching steadily nearer to hers. Hey, she was his girlfriend. He knew what worked.

But all she did, after shoving him away unceremoniously, was say one word.

"No."

"_Tezumi_," Fuji wheedled, embracing her from behind.

Disentangling him from her, she said, "Nope, no kiss. You already got a lot more than a kiss's worth."

Except he hadn't even done anything. Not really. "But _Tezumi_…"

Ignoring his whines, she marched him down the stairs.

"Just in time for dinner," Tezumi's mother said warmly. 'Sachie, your father said you'd fallen asleep. Did you leave poor Syusuke-kun with nothing to do all this time?"

Fuji observed the girl out of the corner of his eye. What would she say?

"Of course I didn't. He amused himself by watching me."

Fuji smiled broadly. "I drew her," he elaborated.

Tezumi looked at him, wide-eyed and horrified, but he only smiled all the more. He was already looking forwards to…_watching_…her again.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I don't know whether I should raise the rating to this. I mean, it's a bit sensual, even if nothing did happen because of course Fuji is the perfect gentleman. Seriously, I thought so too. But then this came out the way it did, and there went his gentlemanly image. But he just hugged her, so it really shouldn't be categorized as T or higher, should it? If you think it should, please let me know so I can change the rating.


End file.
